


In Thunder, Lightning or in Rain

by Apsacta



Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Blood?, But it's a metaphor?, Gen, How Do I Tag, I don't know, Thanks William S for the title, and the quote, and the witches?, it's weird - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23735689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apsacta/pseuds/Apsacta
Summary: Sometimes, Brett thinks that he must’ve been cursed by a witch or something.There is no other explanation for that weird thing going on with him.
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 12
Kudos: 79





	In Thunder, Lightning or in Rain

Sometimes, Brett thinks that he must’ve been cursed by a witch or something. There is no other explanation for that weird thing going on with him.

When he was in Uni, he had a girlfriend who dragged him to a play one day. He doesn’t remember much, didn’t really enjoy it anyway. It was too long, felt like it dragged on. Too many words and not enough music. Weird shit, man, weird shit. But there was one thing. One thing that somehow burned itself into his brain. Three witches and a cauldron and a familiar tickling sensation. A puff of smoke and a trick of light, a tingle in his fingertips at night. A ripple in his chest, like fate recognised.

That’s when he decided that this thing that he has is a witch’s curse. The specifics of how and why exactly some witch would decide to curse him are still pretty hazy. Maybe it’s something à la Paganini. Music in exchange for something else. And maybe Brett just happened to stumble upon a particularly shitty witch, who knew nothing about musical talent anyway.

Whatever the reasoning is, the fact still stands. Some witch, some day, must have decided to curse Brett Yang. That’s the only reason for why his heart would be…

Well…

_By the pricking of my thumbs,_

His relationship with the girl from the play – whose name he can’t remember anyway – ended like all his relationships always do. In tears. Not his. But hers.

It’s not his fault. He tries so hard. He jumps head first into relationships, fearless. He’s funny and clever and interesting. He’s flirty when needs be, and serious when it matters. He gives all his time and attention, his smiles and his affection.

Despite everything, it doesn’t matter how much he tries, or who he tries it with. It always ends the same.

It ends up at 3 in the morning with Janine bawling her eyes out on the kitchen floor, fingers digging so deep in his back that it hurts. She’s almost incoherent and her tears are drenching his shirt, and all he can do is pat her back, hoping that it’ll pass.

It ends up with Sara crying silently on the beach in the middle of the afternoon, make-up slowly diluting in a sea of tears, indifferent to all the stares from passers-by, refusing to be touched, refusing to be comforted.

It ends up with Jamie almost spitting at him from across the table, at the end of the evening. Hands trembling and body shaking, bile dripping from every word. _You’re so selfish that you’re never going to give your heart to anyone._

It always ends the same, and in some way or another, it always ends with a variation of these words: _I didn’t ask for anything more than your heart, but you refuse to give it to me._

The words hurt because he’s trying so hard. He’s trying so hard to give everything, but it’s true. No matter how much he tries, Brett cannot give his heart fully to anyone and it’s an impossibility that eats at him a little more every day.

Eddy, on the other end, gives everything. He wears his heart on his sleeve, ready for the taking. He gives easy, fully, without holding back, without looking back. He’ll trade pieces of his heart with a smile, give it all freely with a hopeful look in his eye.

Eddy gives easy and he bleeds just as easy, and when it inevitably comes crashing down, he’s left on his best friend’s doorstep with a bloody mass in his hands, holding it up to Brett like an offering.

_Something wicked this way comes._

Fixing Eddy’s heart is easy.

How could it be hard, when the missing pieces are so readily available?

All it requires is a little courage.

All it requires is a little digging, nimble fingers breaching through skin, brushing past ribs and grazing at lungs, sinking deeper into flesh until they reach what they’re looking for. Sometimes it takes a little rummaging to find the right part. Sometimes it takes a little carving, cutting through muscle and tearing at veins. With a little push and a little pull, the right piece comes out of his own chest to replace the missing one so perfectly.

Sometimes there’s a little ache and a little sting, and he bleeds out for a while over the kitchen sink.

Fixing Eddy’s heart is easy, and he looks so good, with a brand new heart in his chest. He laughs and his eyes twinkle, and it’s just so easy for Brett to do it all again. Because Eddy looks at him and smiles.

Because Eddy looks at him and says “Thanks, man”.

Because Eddy looks at him and says “You’re the best”. 

Because Eddy looks at him and says “I love you, bro”.

Whatever the reason is, the fact still stands.

Some witch, some day, must have decided to curse Brett Yang.

That’s the only reason for why his heart would be…

…well…

…beating in someone else’s chest.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I know it’s weird. I think the quarantine’s getting to me.  
> I have no idea how to tag this. Is it a metaphor? Is it real blood? Am I slowly slipping into madness?


End file.
